The Slaughter House
by Light1
Summary: Kain raises the first of his brood.


**The Slaughter House **

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal Dynamics not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Kain then he'd be mine.

Rating: PG-13

Authoress note: Kain raises the first of his brood.

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"_You are not worthy." _

The voice of the elder resonated through the eternal twilight of the underworld. Chained in tentacles, held in a purgatorial grip, the little soul does not fight. The soul hangs limp, without hope of freedom from it's prison. The soul no longer knows hope.

"_You are not worthy,_" the elder boomed, caressing the soul that twitched in terror. "_You will be, after time, you will become my soul reaver, my angel of Death. You will kill Kain and save Nosgoth. When you are worthy." _The words held no meaning to the little soul, it coward in the elders grip._ "He will come for you soon,_" the elder continued, "_he will try to take you, to make you one of his abominations. I will prevent it." _

The elder coiled around the little soul. The soul could not fight but it let out a strangled scream. The elder tightened its grip and wove the fog and darkness deeper, concealing the bright little soul from that which sought it.

But the little soul was found.

The seeker broke through the elder's darkness easily, as if it had not been there, or as if the other did not see it. It reached out and touched the little soul, who felt no fear of this one. It touched the soul, entwining with it. The soul responded, curling tightly around this new entity. There was a brief moment of struggle between the elder and the other and then the little soul came loose, free of the elders grip.

The elder watched hatefully as the little soul was pulled upwards into the physical realm, by his enemy, his enemy who did not even know of his existence and yet it had still beaten him with little effort. He hissed and writhed angrily before calming. In truth the little souls escape did not matter. No matter how far the little soul strayed, it would always return to him.

Kain could feel the darkness creeping in on the edges of his vision. He was giving too much blood. Dry cracked hands feebly grasped at his wrist, dead skin flaking away in dry grey clumps. He knew he needed to break the grip soon but he also knew he would have to break the others fingers to do so. The dizziness was intensifying, and made him fall back, slamming his head into the side of the stone sarcophagus. He had to stop this while he still had the strength to do so. With a firm push on the fledgling's chest he managed to separate them without causing unwanted damage to his recovering child.

Weakness nearly took him, trying to pull him down into unconsciousness. But he was stronger than that, and fought to stay awake despite the dizziness and the nausea. He had given his chide more blood than had been originally intended, a lot more, which was foolish. One of them had to be strong enough to protect them, should anything happen, and right now he knew he would be useless if they happened upon anything or if anything happened upon them. The thought of a small army of Serefan marching into the tomb and easily slaughtering both himself and his newborn played out in his mind.

Desperate arms clamped around his waist as his fledgling curled next to him. Without opening his eyes he reached up running a shaking hand through his fledgling's hair. The wiry feel made him open his eyes, looking down he couldn't help himself making a face. The body he had pushed the soul back into had been dead for centuries. his blood was healing it but it was a slow and disgusting process. Lose grey skin was slowly turning pristine white under his fingertips. The rough, brittle, dry feel was slowly lessening, becoming, taught and smooth as the fledgling gained bulk. Muscles reformed and stretched the skin, splitting it in places before it healed. Scars gained in the past showed for a moment before the healing made them vanish, all but one, a small scar no longer than Kain's index finger, rested on ivory skin, a blemish to heighten perfection elsewhere, his death scar. Brittle, yellow nails broke easily against his skin as the fledgling tried to hold tightly to him, desperate and frightened.

Tiny distressed noises worked their way up through its reforming throat. Kain continued running clawed fingers through his child's hair, waiting for the regeneration to stop before he decided what to do next. Silently he chided himself, he should have thought this through better, he should know exactly what he was to do next. But in his own eagerness he had rushed things. He'd given to much blood to the youngster now slowly calming in his arms, weakening himself, making them both defenceless against an enemy. He had not properly decided what to do once his child was aware and well enough to move and he had not taken into account how much physical and mental energy it would take to raise a child, he had planned on doing all of them tonight but now he doubted his ability to raise more than one a month maybe longer. He prayed this was his last mistake but knew it wouldn't be.

As its regeneration started to slow and finish, his child quivered against him. It's constant shuddering making him nervous. He didn't remember being like this when he'd first woken, so defenceless. His child's stomach echoed his own and he nodded to himself, remembering the prey he'd set aside back in Meridian. Deciding it was time to move, Kain lent forwards trying to push his weight forwards and upwards in one movement but at the movement both his child and his dizziness cried out. Leaning back with a sigh of frustration he felt his child press forwards and up, burying its head under his chin, nuzzling there, trying to be closer. Kain snarled, warning the infant against biting.

They were silent for a few moments before his child pulled down a little and looked up at him with blind half-healed eyes. Kain felt himself shudder, completely unprepared for the shiver of emotion that shot through him. Almost without thinking he moved, wrapping arms tighter around his new fledgling, holding it to him.

"This is mine, more than anything was or will be. This is mine." The fledgling let out a small sound in response to his words and buried its face against his chest, dead, useless eyes closing.

Kain smiled before he could prevent himself and reached deep inside himself tapping into his waning magic reserves and teleporting them away to where he knew they would be safe. A village not too far from here, a village with an inn, he would call a carriage and take his child to Meridian.

Where he would teach him how to live.


End file.
